


Body Heat

by codexumbra



Category: Don't Starve (Video Game)
Genre: M/M, Other Characters Are Mentioned, just 2 guys being dudes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-01
Updated: 2019-09-01
Packaged: 2020-10-04 15:23:01
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,125
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20473235
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/codexumbra/pseuds/codexumbra
Summary: As winter blows in, Maxwell and Wilson are forced to share a tent.update: fixed the formatting issue that happened halfway in





	Body Heat

"I'm not sharing a tent with him."

Wickerbottom looked up from the list she had in her lap, looking at the owner of the voice like a chiding teacher would a back-talking student. "What did you say, Percival?"

Wilson caught her voice and crossed his arms close to his form, sticking his nose up in the air. "You can't FORCE me to share a tent with him!" he readjusted the way his arms rested and forced himself to meet the older woman's eyes. "With all due respect, ma'am, I'm a grown man. You can't FORCE me to share a tent with.._him_." The scientist nodded to his right. And to his right sat Maxwell, the former king of the Constant. He scroffed and muttered an 'oh my god' before Wickerbottom began to speak again.

"Mr. Higgsbury-" The librarian readjusted her glasses to sit further up the bridge of her nose- "As much as I respect your scientific endeavors and how often you use your knowledge to benefit the group and help others, you're not always right. I've made a cognitive list that very clearly leads to the conclusion that you must bunk with Mr. Carter. It'll only be for tonight- we hope to have enough material to make everyone plenty of insulating clothing tomorrow." She smiled at him with a closed mouth, believing the discussion to be over. As soon as her eyes fell back onto her personally made list, though, Wilson opened his mouth.

"Ma'am. Are you absolutely sure there's NO ONE else for me to share a tent with?" He cocked his brow and scooted further up onto his seat. Maxwell stared at him before groaning and heaving a breath in, crossing his arms. Wickerbottom took a breath in as well, looking back up at the scientist. "No, Mr. Higgsbury. I'm very sorry that this has been the worst fate to befall you thus far, but you must deal with the burden for tonight. Now, please let me continue. I still have others to inform of their partners." "But ma'am-" "Percival. We are a team. This is no longer about personal malice. This is about survival." "But.. someone must be willing to take his place! Right?" 

Wilson looked anxiously around the circle of survivors at camp. By the looks of it, no one looked anxious to take Maxwell's spot. Willow sat next to Winona with a relaxed look on her face, seemingly happy with her partner. Wes sat next to Wolfgang and sat with his hands tucked between his legs- he got cold easily and there was no WAY that Wilson could keep the mime warmer than the MONSTER that was Wolfgang. WX-78, Wortox and Wormwood were all sharing 1 tent. Woodie was bunking with Wendy and Webber, as he gave off the most heat by FAR and could easily protect the children if anything were to come up. Everyone else had clear partners- and none of them wanted to switch.

"I just think that it's DUMB that we didn't have the right resources in time! It's not MY fault that we didn't have enough stuff for..for stupid hats! So why do I have to-" Wilson, red faced and frustrated, was interrupted by Maxwell. "Oh my God! WHEN did I become so viscerally unbearable that you feel the uncontrollable need to harass Ms. Wickerbottom? Every second of our time YOU waste is another second that we spend freezing, Higgsbury. You are costing us precious time. Deal with me or **die**." His eyes were narrowed and his brows were furrowed, his finger to Wilson's chest. The rest of the camp had gone silent and Wickerbottom was staring at the two men. 

Wilson flushed when he felt the older gentleman's finger on his chest. He grabbed his hand and forced it away from him. "Take your hand off of me! I think I'd rather just FREEZE than-" "Shut UP!" Willow spoke up from the log next to the two gentlemen. Wilson looked over in her direction while Maxwell just turned to face Wickerbottom, his arms crossed and his nose to the air. "You guys are SO fucking annoying! Stop fighting for once! No one needs to hear your stupid DRAMA! Argue about that shit in the...the tent! I'm so tired of hearing it and I'm SURE everyone else is! Lucy is more respectful than both of you and she's a literal axe!" Willow dropped her arms in defeat, swallowing before examining Wilson's expression while only glancing at Maxwell. Wilson looked more affected by Willow's words, but regained his pompous posture in a quick second. Yet the only thing that came from his mouth was a sigh.

It only took a minute or so more for the librarian to finish up her list, head on straight after the quick spat had finished. After she did so, she remained organized by assigning everyone a tent and sending the groups off one by one. A smile on her face, she sent her second to last group off. She looked at Wigfrid and directed the warrior that she was free to head to their tent (which Wigfrid happily did, bounding that way and nearly sliding into the tent curtains). After this, Wickerbottom sighed and looked up at Maxwell and Wilson, who sat directly across for her. "Boys. For the sake of yourselves and everyone else? Please play nice. If you fight all night, you'll simply wake up the next morning more inclined to continue." She stood up, her hands tucked neatly infront of her lap and her piece of paper (clipped neatly to a thinned piece of wood; a mock clipboard) held gently by her digits. "Goodnight, you two. You'll take the final tent to the far left." She looked at them a second longer before smiling and heading off to her and Wigfrid's temporarily shared tent.

And there the two men sat. Maxwell with one knee over the other while Wilson was hunched over with his elbows on his knees and his hands on his cheeks. With a clearing of his throat, the original king decided to break the stagnant air. Standing up and looking at the fire, he tossed a decently sized log into it. Then he spoke.

"Well..we're on the far end of the camp. As much as you hate me, I'm not going to leave you to be consumed by the freezing cold, so I'm going to wait for you." he was silent. "But we have to start off soon. The darkness is deadly." He spoke in a lower tone than usual, trying to keep his voice down for the two youngins' and the others that were already drifting off. Wilson just glanced up at him, curling in closer to himself. Maxwell stood with his hands in his coat pockets, looking at the scientist. "If I have to drag you there, I will."

"Do it, then." Wilson spat, glaring up at him. "If you're that confident, drag me there." He sat up a little, excited by his own wording. Neither of them were smiling. Maxwell simply looked down at him before huffing through his nose and doing a rather dramatic turn of his coat to head to the tent. Then, not sparing wilson so much as a glance, he disappeared into the curtains. The man with the odd hair smirked; he was proud of himself. He had driven Maxwell away by proving to the both of them that the king wasn't willing to tussle and get physical with any situation he came across. He hummed, eyes closed, and leaned a little closer to the flames that arose from the fire.

A couple of minutes passed, and the scientist had begun to feel the effects of the freezing cold winter. He was shivering significantly now, his body leaned as close into itself as humanly possible without having to envelope itself. He was beginning to regret his decision- this wasn't smart. He was already about to stand until he felt something tap on his left shoulder. Without a second of hesitation, Wilson flicked his head around and was met face to face with Maxwell. Not Maxwell. A goopy, semi-transparent, nightmarishly black form of Maxwell. He had none of Maxwell's physical accents, as they blended in with the rest of his skin. Yet he was still freakishly tall. Wilson's eyes pinpricked and he jumped up from his seat, making the Maxwell behind him stand up. His hands were tucked obediently behind his back. Wilson quickly examined the figure before he swallowed.

He had no goddamn clue what this thing was; it was visceral. Terrifying. A goopy consistency ran off of it and onto the forest ground, which made the scientist feel a little ill. In a moment of panic, he called out to the only person he knew was awake.

Maxwell.

He screamed it, in fact. A look of absolute terror was plastered onto his face and the scientist felt glued to where he was standing. Then it started to move. It stepped over the log and made gentle but large strides to the scientist. Wilson knew that he HAD to dart for it. He had no clue what that thing was; it could have been Charlie disguising herself. A physical manifestation of all of the things Wilson hated most compressed into the form of an attractive man. And in pure desperation, dart he did. Tears pricking his eyes, he practically flew to the tent he shared with the magician. He flung himself into it and screamed the other man's name as soon as he did, grabbing onto his arm. "MAXWELL! MAXWELL!" The magician looked at him, a look of calmness on his face.

"What is it, Percival? Did you see a Terrorbeak?" He glanced at him, the Codex Umbra sat pretty in his lap. "NO! No no, no. Much MUCH worse. It was you, but..horrifying! You.." He ran his hands down his face. "I can't even describe it! You just have to go out there and see! Please! Maybe you'll know what it is, I don't know anything about that magic stuff!" He shook his head valiantly, his lip quivering and his eyes panicked while Maxwell looked cool as a cucumber.

Then Maxwell took his eyes off of Wilson and looked to the tent's opening. "You mean him, right?" Maxwell spoke, his voice calm. Then Wilson observed the thing act like it was programmed to do an action; it pulled back the curtain and poked it's head in, goo dripping off of its face and onto the ground. "CHRIST! YES! KILL IT!" Wilson yipped into the older man's coat arm. "Fine, fine. Let go of my arm. It makes things easier."

When Wilson let go of the magician's arm and scrambled into the corner, Maxwell sighed and sat up. Then he looked the other Maxwell in the nonexistent eyes. "Are you going to kill it..?" Wilson pipped up from the corner of the tent that he had pressed himself to. The king glanced his way before he huffed. "Yes, I'm going to kill him. I made him after all. It only feels correct that I be the one to do it." And though Wilson had felt his heart rate physically decrease and was now expecting an easy disappearance of the creature like Maxwell reading a scary sounding incantation or reciting some weird sounding spell, he simply took out an axe and, holding the handle with both hands, he split it down the nightmarish things cranium. There was a fierceness in his eyes. To the more observant eye, a lust to kill his clone. The thing that was only different from him by the material it was made out of. But Maxwell killed him. And the thing gathered neatly into a small puddle of yolk-like nightmare fuel. And the older man just looked at the younger man next to him. Maxwell's words racked over in Wilson's head while he watched the man execute his clone. He created that beast.

"See? T-" "Y..you MADE that?" Wilson spat, the fact hitting him just seconds before. Maxwell stared at him. "Yes, I-" "I CAN'T BELIEVE YOU USED THAT...THING TO GET ME INTO THIS STUPID TENT!" His face was red and he felt disgustingly embarrassed; he screamed this man's name and ran to him for safety when he was the one that made him feel threatened in the first place. Maxwell's calm expression turned into frustration. "There's no need for you to get mad! It was harmless, and I KNEW that it wasn't going to hurt you! Your life was not at ALL threatened!" He hissed through his teeth. Wilson sat up to speak, but his anger only made him mature enough to fall back into the corner and look away from the man in the other. The lamp in the middle of the tent that kept them alive burned less and less bright.

But the men sat conformed to their corners of the tent. Wilson sat with his arms crossed and Maxwell stared out of the mesh window of the tent, his spindly legs bunched up against his body. After the silence really settled, Wilson began to think. He tried to think about less serious things like what his plans were for tomorrow, but his brain insisted he face the music of today. He felt uneasy and regretful; it was odd of him to feel this way, really, as he didn't get a lot of silent time and rarely ever confronted feelings of settling regret or remorse. He swallowed and turned his head a little, gaining Maxwell's attention before the dethroned man looked away to the direction that had previously held his attention.

Maybe the shadow king was right. He truly didn't mean to hurt him; but it wasn't WRONG of Wilson to be horrified, was it? No. Not really. He narrowed his eyes, then spoke after he cleared his throat. "Hey. Maxwell." He sat still, his knees bunched to his small body. Maxwell kept his eyes on the half deforested area outside of his window. "Mhm." he mumbled. And Wilson fell silent. As difficult as it was to get out, he had to bring himself to apologize. He was allowed to bask in his thoughts for 30 straight minutes and a couple of important things had hit him. But the need to apologize was the most important.

“I'm sorry." He shook his head. "I'm sorry I got so..crazy about the stupid little..joke. I know that it's rare for you to even ATTEMPT a joke, let alone do anything like pranks or tricks." He swallowed, then continued. "I was like..scared shitless, though. That wasn't..faked or played up." and he looked at Maxwell, who didn't speak. Then he cleared his throat and returned to making the conversation about proper reconciliation. "Now that we're on the subject of apologies, too, I'm sorry for earlier tonight. I acted like a toddler...I just." He held his upper arms. "I don't know. I don't know what my problem is. I don't even hate you, really." And he laughed nervously, shrugging his shoulders limply. "I think you're smart and creative and as dumb as I feel admitting it, I think you're stupidly charming! And it feels like I'm spilling EVERYTHING to you right now, but I just-" He was interrupted when Maxwell chuffed.

“Stop apologizing, Percival. You had reason to be terrified. I'd cripple over if I saw a shadow version of you." Then he turned his head to look at him, his tiredness showing through his eyes. "I'm sorry that I scared you. But I'm glad you're in here. I made the clone as fast as possible to lower the possibility of you freezing to death." He was silent. Then he spoke, and Wilson saw his shoulders physically tense. "As...sudden as it may be, I'm sorry for all of this, Wilson.” He gestured to the air when he said ‘this’. “The regret I have for ruining the lives of all of you weighs heavier on my heart than you will ever understand." Then he smiled, but he sniffed and dropped it. Wilson just stared at him, and sat up.

Then he scooted a little closer. He was shaking a little; he hadn't done this before. He wasn't good with emotions. And dealing with people's problems. When Maxwell had noticed his closeness, his shoulders loosened but he swallowed. Wilson just huffed with a smile and looked up at him. "What's the point of sharing a tent if we're not even sharing warmth, right?" He was nervous, and Maxwell was very obviously touch adverse. He lurched away from those that tried to touch him as though their fingertips were filled with poison. But Wilson heard him clear his throat and the man relaxed. "I suppose you're right, Percival." and he sniffed again, lifting a hand to wipe his face.

Nearly pressed against his shoulder, Wilson was looking down at the ground. Then his eyes fell onto the Codex. It laid closed, cover up, on the floor. He reached over to grab it, and held it in his hands gently before placing it on his lap. Maxwell swallowed and looked at the book in his lap. "Be careful with that, Percival. Hand it to me."

And hand it to him he did. Wilson leaned to him a little more, but not so much that they were cuddling; their shoulders were touching. Maxwell ran his shadow-darkened hands over the leather cover of the book. Wilson noticed his odd movements and swallowed, reaching over to touch the ‘M’ on the book, too. After a moment of feeling the cover, he took his hand away, instead tucking them neatly in between his thighs.

"Me and your shadow guy got off on the wrong..foot, I think. Can you..show me how you make them?" He swallowed. "If you even make them in there.." Maxwell was silent, but then he sighed. "You're going to have to pay attention. It's a little bit complex." He looked the scientist's direction before looking back at the book.

"Don't repeat the stuff you learn from this book. I already ruined your life once. I don't want to make it worse." He was silent and before he could think too deep into the fate he sealed for the more than 10 people he had dragged into his mistake, Wilson hummed.

"You're making me curious, now, Maxwell. Come on! Start simple. I have no clue what's even starting to go on." He laughed a little, then fell silent. But Maxwell made a noise of humor as well, then hummed.

"At least you admit it. Now pay attention, Higgsbury. They're a lot more in-depth than an offmodel me."


End file.
